


Everything's Different Now

by NobodyOfficial



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chubby Aziraphale, Confessions, Fluff, M/M, Post canon, gotta get some, in there he's ma dude, so much fluff you'll melt, teeny tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodyOfficial/pseuds/NobodyOfficial
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale return from Armageddon, exhausted, victorious, but, most importantly, together. And everything's different now.-I know we all agree that they've been married for 6000 years, but here's some canon compliant confession fluff.





	Everything's Different Now

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to get some of my headcanons out before the show premiers to be honest, sorry!

They were holding hands again.

At some point between the apocalypse and reaching Aziraphale’s bookshop they’d stopped holding hands, but then Aziraphale had tried to go inside and Crowley had grabbed his hand to halt him. He didn’t know why he’d done it, or what he wanted to say, so he just stood there, tense and awkward, holding Aziraphale’s hand.

“Crowley dear, do you, um, want something?” Aziraphale asked, as if everything was normal. As if moments before their very existence hadn’t hung in the balance.

“Everything’s different now,” Crowley said.

“Well, that’s not strictly true. In fact, everything’s exactly the same.” Aziraphale smiled at his perfectly-restored bookshop.

Crowley shook his head; he wasn’t getting it. “No, we- I’m different now. I think.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s face crumpled as he thought about this, then he said, “Do you want to come in?”

Crowley didn’t know if he wanted to come in or not, so he chose not to reply, simply following Aziraphale inside.

After sitting Crowley down at the small kitchen table Aziraphale set about making them tea (you can’t just miracle yourself whatever you please, that’s cheating, Crowley!) and taking biscuits from the cupboard. He placed them in front of Crowley, as if he’d ever eat them, the leant against the cabinets as he waited for the kettle. And, probably, for Crowley to explain his strange behaviour.

“I don’t want to be a demon anymore.”

What? The phrase shocked Crowley just as much as it had shocked Aziraphale, and it had come out of his mouth! What the Somewhere did he mean, he didn’t want to be a demon? Of course he did! Six thousand years ago he’d made the choice to saunter vaguely downwards and there was no turning back from that.

“Crowley, whatever do you mean?” The kettle clicked and Aziraphale was shrouded in a cloud of steam. “That’s like if I went around saying I no longer wished to be an angel; that just wouldn’t do!”

“But you don’t, do you?” Crowley pressed. Of this he’d always been certain. Aziraphale had always been too insular, standoffish, and gluttonous to be any good at being an angel.

“That’s ludicrous.” He turned to pour the tea. “You’re just saying that to taunt me. That’s what demons do.”

“But that’s not what I do.” Crowley was beginning to puzzle out his previous statement in his head. He didn’t want to not be a demon, he’d just never wanted to be the kind of demon Down There expected him to be. “I’ve never wanted to hurt anyone, Angel, and that includes you.”

“Well,” Aziraphale’s face was scrunched up in confusion, “What do you want to be then? If not a demon?” He placed two mugs of tea on the table, then added several heaped teaspoons of sugar to his own.

Crowley watched him, before continuing, “I don’t know, just, something like a person.”

“A person?” Aziraphale scoffed, before remembering he was suppose to like people and looking guilty.

“People are allowed to make their own choices about morality. When it comes down to it, no matter how much either side tries to tempt them or redeem them, people get to choose for themselves how to act. That’s what I want to do. I want to be able to make good decisions.”

“Hah, you could never make a good decision, Crowley dear,” Aziraphale sniggered while sipping his tea.

That’s why he was a terrible angel. He was just, for want of a better word, bad. And Crowley kind of liked it. That’s probably why, while demons and angels around the world tried to smite each other, he and Aziraphale had sustained what most people would probably call a friendship. He was a demon with a moral compass and Aziraphale was nothing short of ruthless, for an angel, at least.

“I’ve made plenty of good decisions, just like you’ve made plenty of bad ones.”

“I have never-“ Aziraphale stacked three custard creams on top of each other and tried to fit them into his mouth. He turned them sideways, but it was in vain, and he eventually just stuffed them in one by one. “Made a bad decision!”

“If you say so.”

They settled into a slightly-more-awkward-than-usual silence while Crowley watched Aziraphale drink his tea. He was grateful, he thought, that Adam had given Aziraphale his old corporeal form back. Whereas Crowley liked to change his appearance every few hundred years Aziraphale always looked vaguely Garden-of-Eden-like. Modern day humans would probably call him Middle Eastern. But no matter what form Aziraphale miracled himself he always managed to make it suitably chubby. Crowley kind of liked that. Not because food made Aziraphale unbelievably happy, or because it was heartwarming to see him so comfortable with his human form. No, obviously Crowley just liked seeing Aziraphale give into temptation. But it was insanely cute when he did.

“What do you mean, ‘everything’s different now?’” Aziraphale asked after a while. He looked up at Crowley with round, honey-gold eyes, which were new with this corporation. Upon seeing them Crowley wanted to be filled with envy, but instead they made him feel (ugh, how disgusting) warm-blooded.

“I’m not scared anymore,” Crowley said softly.

“Scared?”

“Of Down There. Of anything. We don’t belong Down or Up anywhere. We fought against our respective sides and we won! We belong here, on Earth.”

“So you’re serious about this not wanting to be a demon thing, then?” Aziraphale enquired. He wasn’t smirking anymore, his features were still and serious.

“Yes, Angel. I don’t want to punish innocent people anymore, or even inconvenience them. I just want to shout at my plants and feed the ducks and fall in love. You know, human things.”

He waited for Aziraphale’s response, but the angel seemed speechless. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped open, and he had to shove two whole biscuits into it before he could talk again. "What did you say?" He gawked.

"I don't want to... Punish people?" Crowley said slowly. He really didn't think anything he'd just said was that out of the ordinary.

"No, no, the last bit," Aziraphale prompted.

"Human things?"

"No, the bit about falling in love!" Aziraphale exclaimed. He'd shoved the mugs to one side and was leaning across the table, his face an all-too-friendly distance from Crowley's.

Crowley leaned back, hoping Aziraphale hadn't caught him blushing. "I didn't say anything about love, Angel, what are you even talking about?"

Aziraphale ignored him. "Who are you in love with?" There was an edge to his voice that, if Crowley hadn't know better, he would've called jealousy. "You don't spend much time with many people. In fact, I'd say you spend most of your time with..." he gasped theatrically, "Me!" He jumped up, pointing accusingly at Crowley. "You're in love with me!"

Crowley was great at lying. It would've been so easy to have just lied to Aziraphale's face. He had the rest of the eternity to get over it, it's not like Crowley would be doing any lasting damage. But everything was different now.

"Yes."

"What?" Aziraphale gasped again, shocked and genuine.

"What do you mean 'what'? I thought you just figured it out!"

"I was joking!" He exclaimed. Aziraphale plopped himself back down into his seat, resting his elbows on the table and squishing his chubby cheeks between his chubby hands. "Everything's different now," he whispered.

"Sorry," Crowley said. He didn't think he'd ever said that before, and he didn't even know why he was saying it. He supposed it wasn't very flattering to have a demon fall in love with you; it said a lot about your character.

"Crowley," Aziraphale looked down at the table, "Dear, do you only like me because I'm envious, and gluttonous, and wrathful, and, well, bad?"

"No." Crowley shook his head. Aziraphale looked melancholy through his tinted sunglasses so he took them off. "I mean, I like that your face scrunches up when you're angry, and I like going to fancy restaurants with you, and how excited you get about food, and how cute and squishy it makes your face." He leaned across the table to gently squash a very irritated Aziraphale's cheeks. "And I like that you're ruthless, when you need to be. That kind of saved our asses back there. But what I like most, what I really like, is that you make me want to be better. You make me think that, maybe, if all angels were like you I wouldn't have needed to saunter anywhere."

Ew. Well that was embarrassing. When this conversation was over Crowley decided that he'd probably turn into a snake and hibernate in a crack in the wall. For a thousand years.

Aziraphale, however, didn't seem at all embarrassed. He seemed star-struck. "Oh, Crowley," he murmured. "That's ever so heartwarming of you to say." A loose thread on his sweater sleeve suddenly became intriguing. "In the spirit of candour I suppose I should confess that I've also harboured certain... Unorthodox feelings towards you. Being with you gives me a sense of freedom and self I never get Up There. I enjoy spending time with you. I enjoy you."

"Do you have a bed?" Crowley cringed at his own awkwardness. He could've responded to Aziraphale's heartfelt confession, or at least paused.

"Crowley," Aziraphale frowned, "I may be agreeing to defy the Powers That Be and elope with you, but that's doesn't mean I want to... Or I'm ready to..."

"No, no!" Crowley interjected quickly. "Me neither. I just, uh, it's been a long day. It's been a long six thousand years. I just want to lie beside you and let my human body go to sleep." He sounded like a rom-com. Disgusting. "Would that be ok?"

"Will you do that obnoxiously human thing where you put an arm over my waist and attempt to fall asleep while hugging, which is both terribly impractical and romantic?" Aziraphale asked.

"Anything you like, Angel."

"Then yes, that would certainly be ok."

Aziraphale did have a bed, but, he explained, it was for aesthetic purposes only. He was obviously far too angelic to sleep. Though he did own a pair of pyjamas...

Crowley miracled himself a pair, hanging his clothes over the back of the chair on which Aziraphale's were neatly folded. He'd also taken his glasses off and placed the on the side of the bed. It was quiet, far quieter than it should've been, and Crowley wondered if Aziraphale used some sort of miracle to keep it that way. Crafty angel.

As requested, Crowley's wrapped an arm around Aziraphale and nuzzled his face into his curls. They'd kissed before, when they were both drunk and pretending they didn't know what they were doing, but this felt so much more intimate and domestic.

"We have to get up and have dinner soon," Aziraphale whispered. Crowley didn't know why he was whispering. He liked it.

"Of course," he replied.

They were quiet for a moment.

"You're the only person who's ever hugged me," Aziraphale said softly. "I think my poor corporations would've all died of loneliness without you."

Hugging Aziraphale was like hugging a giant marshmallow: sweet, soft, and not anything you thought you'd ever get to do. Crowley would recommend it to anyone. "You definitely would've died without me."

"Do shut up," Aziraphale laughed. "That's not quite what I said."

"'S definitely true though."

Aziraphale smirked, but was obviously ready to make a real attempt at trying to fall asleep, so didn't offer a biting comeback.

Crowley held him just a little bit more tightly.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what that was, apologies! My tumblr's everyonewholovesmehasdied although I don't post much Good Omens content I'm always ready to talk about how much I love it! Thanks for reading!


End file.
